


a sweet new year

by sydneygremlins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confessions, Dean POV, Fluff, Getting Together, I AM LIVING FOR THIS, M/M, Mindless Fluff, New Year’s, New Year’s Day, Not Beta Read, THE YEAR FROM HELL IS ALMOST OVER, WE ARE ALMOST FREE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28441416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydneygremlins/pseuds/sydneygremlins
Summary: It’s a tradition to kiss people on New Year’s Day at midnight. Cas understands this perfectly well, in all of its implications.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	a sweet new year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allenabeille](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allenabeille/gifts).



> AL: thanks for the plot suggestion, sunshine.  
> everyone else: brush your teeth after reading this. tooth rotting fluff.
> 
> also, a 2012-style A/N bc al and adhd brain said so, im so sorry for inflicting this upon you, my gentle readers.
> 
> (A/N:  
> me: ohoho dean ur gonna like whats in store!!!!  
> dean: 0.o what r u doing???!?!?!?  
> me: u’ll see!!!!!!!)

“Dean?”

Dean’s head shot up at the sound, and for a few frantic moments he flailed around, startled, on his perch up on his dresser, before he realised who was standing in the doorway.

“Oh. Hey, Cas.”

Cas, who had winced at Dean’s distressed scrambling, hovered on the threshold uncertainly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. My apologies.”

Dean smiled, though his heart was still rabbiting frantically in his ribcage, and his hands were itching to find some weapon. He ignored the instinct. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

Cas frowned at him for a moment, then seemed to brush it off. Dean could see the change in his stance as he shifted his weight between his feet. “Uh, Sam wants you to come to the war room.”

Dean swung his legs lazily, leaning backwards so his shoulders brushed the wall behind him. “Why’s that?”

“I believe he wants help with some research.”

“It’s New Year’s,” Dean groaned, “Look.” He gestured to his alarm clock, which read  _ 11:54 PM _ in bright red letters.

Cas cocked his head. “And? You’re just sitting on your dresser.”

Dean sighed. “I’m having some  _ peace and quiet _ .”

When Cas’ confused expression persisted, Dean sighed again, and added, “Whatever you do at midnight on New Year’s– at the very beginning of the New Year– is whatever you’ll be doing for the rest of the year. And I want some damn peace and quiet.”

Cas nodded slowly, brow creased deeply. “Interesting.”

Dean hummed an affirmative, then turned his head up to look at the ceiling. “So, you tell Sam I’m not gonna do his work for him. At least not for five minutes.”

Cas took a few steps into the room that Dean tracked in the periphery of his vision. “But that means I would likely spend the first minutes of the new year being a messenger for you. Or doing research with Sam.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, tilting his head back down to study Cas’ expression. “What’re you getting at, Cas?”

Cas stared at him with some sort of determination. He took a few more steps, landing himself in between Dean’s knees. “There are certain other things I would prefer to be doing for a whole year, and research and delivering messages are not in that list.”

Dean gulped, shifted a little, vaguely unsettled by the intensity of Cas’ eyes. “Yeah?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Yes,” Cas said, voice dangerously low, face dangerously close to Dean’s, and Dean was infinitely grateful that his door was one of those nice ones that closed on its own because had anyone passed by and seen this, he wouldn’t quite know how to explain what was going on, nor why Cas was close enough that he could feel the warm puffs of his breath on his mouth.

Dean braved speaking again. “Such as?” 

“This,” Cas said, before surging forward to close the remaining distance. He was gentle, much gentler than Dean had expected from the heat of his gaze, with strong, calloused hands that Dean had seen bloodied, that he’d seen holding swords and guns and he’d seen glowing with holy light, hands that were now finding purchase on Dean’s back and neck, then both on his jaw, tilting his face down so they could properly meld together. Dean whimpered into it, a slow mass of heat roiling in his stomach even though Cas was being delicate, not demanding, careful, not kissing him too deep.

Dean decided that needed to change, and Cas made a wordless noise of surprise when Dean was kissing him back, hard.

Dean moved forward on the dresser until his legs were on either side of Cas’ hips, their chests almost touching, and good God he’d wanted this for  _ so long. _

When they broke apart, they both panted for a moment, catching the breath they’d lost. The air between them was hot with their breathing and their movement. Dean flicked a glance at the clock.

“11:59,” he murmured to Cas.

With a small smile and no further words, Cas leaned in again. With both of them thoroughly tired out, at least temporarily, by the first kiss, this one was gentle and slow on both sides, and this time Dean reached up to cradle Cas’ cheek as they sighed into each other’s mouths. The heat in Dean’s abdomen changed: instead of being all-consuming and energising, it became warm and comforting, tingling in his skin and weighing down his eyelids.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered reverently, just as the clock changed.

“And to you, Dean,” Cas said softly, his voice a gravelly rumble in the silence of the tiny hours of the morning of New Year’s Day.

They breathed slow against each other, Dean’s head on Cas’ neck, Cas’ hand up in his hair, for a few minutes.

“Is that where the tradition comes from?” Cas asked after a while.

“The tradition?” Dean asked, pulling away to look at Cas inquisitively, if sleepily.

“Yes. Where people kiss one another on New Year’s Day at midnight.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. ‘Cause, y’know, you wanna be, like, uh,” he laughed a little more awkwardly now, but Cas finished his sentence for him anyway.

“Kissing people during the year. Yes, I understand, Dean.”

Dean nodded. He slid his hands off Cas’ back and moved back on the dresser a bit. Cas stood up straight, an odd expression painting his features.

“I never thought you were all that into fucking people, but, like, good luck with it, I guess, man,” Dean blurted out uncomfortably.

Cas tilted his head again, but this time there was concern in his gaze as well as confusion. “What?”

Dean frowned. “What?” he repeated, intonation slightly different to Cas. “You kissed me. ‘Cause you wanna kiss more people in the new year. I wished you good luck?” He was starting to think maybe that wasn’t a normal thing to wish someone good luck on.

Cas’ expression cleared. “Oh, Dean.”

Dean frowned deeper. “What?”

“I don’t want to kiss just anyone, Dean. I don’t aim to be with more people this year, I–” he paused to huff out a laugh– “I want to be with  _ you _ .”

Dean’s entire insides may have just descended to Hell without him, because there was a sudden shocking emptiness in his stomach region.  _ What the fuck. _

He gaped. “Be with. Be with…  _ me _ ? Like, as in, dating be with? Or, like, friends with benefits? Or–”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Cas chuckled. “Though, I would prefer not to be delegated to merely a friend who you are occasionally sexually active with.”

“‘Occasionally sexually active’,” Dean repeated, mocking Cas to try to restore some sense of normality to the conversation, but Cas said nothing, merely smiled at him gently, indulgently. Dean brought his hands up to his eyes, pressing until he could see stars. “Fuck, man,” he wheezed out. He looked up again. “Fuck.”

Cas did the fucking head tilt, again, and Dean was about to  _ die _ , Jesus Christ. “What?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Dean said, weakly, helplessly, already smiling, even before Cas realised what he’d said, even before Cas gathered him up in his arms and kissed him silly. 

“Dean,” Cas murmured after a while, once they’d calmed down. “Dean.”

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out,” Dean muttered, not unkindly.

He could hear the smile that followed, and the truth, in Cas’ voice as he said, “Thank you.”

“Nah. Thank  _ you _ , for ensuring my coming year is filled with make-out sessions.”

Cas laughed and swatted him lightly. “Dean!”

Dean smiled up at him, He was hopelessly, madly in love, goddamnit. Christ.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on tumblr @sydneygremlins where I accidentally started a second mishapocalypse! well, not realyl accidentally, but it’s got a lot more notes than I thought it would...
> 
> sQUEE year from hell is over soon


End file.
